


Caught in a Lie ~ h.s.

by AmberE3Love34



Category: Harry Styles (AU), Harry Styles - Fandom, One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, Falling In Love, Lies, Love, Modern Royalty, Romance, Royalty, Secret Identity, Undercover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:41:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27316438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmberE3Love34/pseuds/AmberE3Love34
Summary: A book about a modern-day princess, a green-eyed financial analyst, and so, so many lies.





	1. ♕ I ♕

**Author's Note:**

> ~This story is also posted in its entirety on my Wattpad profile (same username).~  
> ~Slowly uploading on here.~
> 
> Please let me know what you think xx

♕♕♕

Pristine stiletto heels clap against polished marble floors, the sound echoing throughout the seemingly empty corridor and notifying those that my presence is nearing. Maids and guards alike part the hall as I turn the corner, their eyes darting anywhere but my face and their bodies bowing out of respect as I pass. To outsiders, these responses may seem foreign, but for me, this is what I've grown accustomed to.

With my head held high, I push through the double doors of the living quarters, being greeted by a baren and silent corridor with four sets of doors, all closed. My hands open the first set of double-doors on the left, allowing me to slip in unnoticed. Looking around I release the heavy breath that I'd been holding; finally, I'm alone.

My shoulders are no longer held back as I take a deep breath and slouch comfortably. The shoes on my feet are immediately kicked across the room, landing in a messy pile in the centre of the space. A deep sigh leaves my lips as I tug my hair out of the tight bun atop my head, the pressure from the hairs being pulled ungodly tight finally dispersing into a wavy mess on my shoulders. These are the things I look forward to when I've finished running around carrying out my duties, responsibilities, and meetings with important faces that I'll forget the next day.

Being a princess isn't what it's all cracked up to be.

I've grown tired of the day-to-day life I live. For twenty-six years I've done the same mundane activities, my life lacking any real spontaneity. The early morning wake-up calls become a drag when you've done them as long as I have, the lack of privacy irritates me with each passing day, and don't get me started on those dreaded dinner parties I'm to attend frequently. I've never had a say on how I spend my day, my personal assistant drawing up my schedule without my knowledge. If I'd like to request some time to myself, I have to do just that, request it. Sometimes requests go denied or even when they're approved there's always something getting in the way. I should be able to have a say in what I do, actually, I should have a lot more freedom than that but alas I'm stuck with cantankerous and wishful thinking.

My mother tells me that I have complaints because I don't have a true hobby that I stick with, apparently, puzzles and Netflix aren't true hobbies; my father thinks it's because I refuse to take my duties seriously, which I disagree with as I'm the only princess in this palace that takes royal responsibilities serious; and my sisters, well they keep to themselves about these matters, for the better.

Quitting isn't in my blood, but I'm surprised I haven't given up by now, but with the weight of everything on my shoulders there's not much giving up I can do. I can refuse to leave my room or tend to my duties, but my father will have one of the guards break down the door and drag me out and, trust me, no one wants to see that.

For far too long I've dealt with the mundane, the schedules, the lifestyle, but I've come to the decision that it's time I do something about my unhappiness. One more day spent in this fortress with little to no contact with the outside world has me scheming and making rash decisions. I fear not of my decisions, even though I'll receive a heavy scolding from my parents - oh well -, but of what will happen if I do nothing about my personal happiness.

I need to get away, get out, at least for a little bit. I need to experience the world with my own two eyes, without the observant orbs of many personal guards on me. Honestly, it's as if I live in a world where I'm constantly under surveillance; think the Truman Show, that's how I feel. I want to explore the city without a tight schedule I have to stick with and without everyone knowing who I am and what I'm up to.

After months of planning, scheming, researching, and debating, I've finally figured out just how to do it... or so I hope.

"Princess." A familiar feminine voice calls from beyond the thick barrier of my door. My eyes flicker through the mirror of my vanity, the brown orbs rolling ever so slightly at the title.

Ugh, that term can is so overused around here. Princess this, your Highness that, just call me by my name. I'm a human, not a glorified object.

"You may enter." I stay seated in front of my vanity, my eyes never leaving the reflective surface in front of me. I see the door behind me open and a tall brunette enter with a small smile and something concealed behind her back as she walks into my bedroom. I'd be worried about what she's hiding if I hadn't known her for as long as I have. She enters fully before shutting the door and approaching me. "What is it that you need, Charlotte?" Remember that personal assistant I was telling you about?

Charlotte has been working alongside me for years now, practically a decade by now. My father and our security team appointed her to me and at the time I was hesitant towards a woman five years my senior whom I'd never met following me around, but as time drew on I'm happy they assigned her to me. We were nothing but colleagues for the first few months of her employment, but we became really close. When you don't get out much, you don't make many friends; therefore your staffs are usually your closest friends.

"The item you asked me to order for you has arrived." A bright smile breaks out on my lips as I spin around in my chair to face the woman. My eyes take in the box that she pulls from behind her back and I notice the way it's already been opened, my heart quickening slightly.

"Did you open it?"

"Yes," a sigh of relief passes through my lips at her answer. I don't want anyone but Charlotte knowing of my plans; it would ruin everything, "I had to make sure that it was exactly as you asked and that there was nothing that could be a threat to your life." My eyes want to roll but don't, seeing as she was only looking out for my safety.

"Charlotte, it's a wig... that you ordered and it came to your home, how could that be a threat to my life?" I wonder, sliding the jet-black wig out of the box and running my fingers through the straight locks. The wig is exactly as I had asked: long, dark, and straight; completely different from my usual short ombre waves.

"You never know, Princess -"

"We've been over this, Charlotte. It's only you and I, you can call me whatever you please." I remind her, taking a seat at my vanity again as my eyes bore into the darkness of the wig in my hands. It's black like the sky on a clear night in June and exactly as I had ordered it, or rather how Charlotte had ordered it.

"Are you sure this is all a good idea, Mabel? It's just a wig, it won't conceal your identity much." Charlotte clearly isn't 100% on board with my plans, as she's been trying to stop me from scheming for months now, but I'm persistent and her boss so there hasn't been much she can do. Luckily for her, I've come up with a sure-fire plan that will work... or so I really hope.

"Did you bring the clothes I asked you to?" I ask, changing the subject. Charlotte nods and saunters over to my entirely too big closet, pulling the doors open. She waltzes in and I follow in suit, watching as she crouches low to open a drawer that's usually reserved for scarves and accessories of that nature.

"A pair of ripped denim, a tee, a pair of sneakers, and a cap." Charlotte leads me out of the closet and lays my clothing, or rather her clothing, atop my silk sheets. My eyes take in the clothing items for me to wear, most of them foreign to my wardrobe.

I usually stick to tea dresses, gowns, and pantsuits when appropriate. There have been times where I get to wear less formal attire around the palace, but I've never gone out in public in something so casual.

Holding up the striped tee in my hands, I eye the material and feel the fabric. It's remarkably soft and as I admire the simple piece I can't help but let my eyes linger to the paper bag that held the outfit. The large print on the bag is foreign to me and it draws my curiosity.

"What's Primark?"

"It's a moderately priced clothing store."

"Ah."

I don't do much of my own shopping if you can't tell, nor do I dabble in the world of fashion. My sister, Gwen, is the fashionable one between us three girls. When she's not busy with her royal duties, let's be honest they all fall to me anyway, she's actually quite the established model, giving her way more expertise on the subject of all that is fashion. I, for one, stick to my duties as a royal and those duties only, but in my free time, I like to stay indoors, alone, listening to music. So when it comes to my clothing choices, I leave it up to the stylists we pay good money to.

"How moderately priced?" My curiosity gets the best of me and whilst I don't do my own shopping, I do witness the price tags on my clothing before I rip them off.

"The tee costs around £8." My jaw falls open as my eyes widen.

"Only £8?" A gasp of disbelief passing through my parted lips. "I think the least expensive tee I have in my wardrobe is around £75, and I thought that was cheap." A laugh falls from Charlotte's mouth and she quickly covers her lips with her hand, trying desperately to conceal the loud laughter. Despite my lack of knowledge of the real world, I find myself laughing along with her; our differences can be quite amusing.

"Then you'll be just shocked to learn that this entire ensemble costs less than £100."

"My Lord."

I'm not blind to the fact that as a member of a royal family I fall into a great deal of wealth, but it does shock me the amount of money we throw around on feeble things like clothing. This ensemble sitting before me looks quite comfortable and fashionable and it costs less than any of the shoes that I own.

The world is a better place if we gave more of our wealth away to the less fortunate; I do believe.

"What time do you plan on departing?"

"Half-nine."

My parents retire to bed by eight-fifteen and don't leave their chambers until morning, so I should have no problem with them witnessing anything suspicious. My sisters have gone to their rooms, which face the back of the palace, and hardly come out after they've locked themselves away. As for the staff: shifts change at nine-thirty, so between the chaos of the staff leaving and the new staff arriving I'll have a better chance of sneaking off.

"Mabel, are you sure this is a good idea? If you get caught you'll be in a lot of trouble, and I don't mean to be selfish, but I could be fired, if not worse." I wave my hand at Charlotte to stop her from talking. She does have a valid point though, my father could have her thrown in prison is he finds out about this, but I would never let that happen.

"I'm doing this, Charlotte, there's no turning back now. And don't you fret, if I get caught your name won't be mentioned in conversation. As far as I know, you know nothing."

"I know nothing."

"Exactly."

Charlotte opens her mouth to say something but is interrupted by a loud knock upon my door, followed by the chirpy voice of my littlest sister. Both our eyes widen and in seconds we're scrambling to shove the evidence of my escape away from view. Not seconds after Charlotte has darted in the closet with the items of my disguise, the door flings open.

"Violet!" I scold with a pointed finger in her direction. "Don't you know not to enter someone's room unless invited in? I could have been indecent for crying out loud, or taking care of some important matters."

At twelve years old, Violet Armitage-Winfield has never been one to follow rules too seriously. When she's in the presence of our parents and her tutors, she's one perfectly behaved princess, but remove those adults from the vicinity and she's wild and carefree. She's the cliche annoying little sister in every aspect, but I still love her to bits. I'm a little hard on her at times, but being fourteen years older than her, and next in line for the throne, gives me the right to.

When she's not studying in her quarters you can find her running about the palace with her wavy brown locks flowing wildly behind her. Violet's been scolded many times in the past for disturbing the staff whilst they work, but she is young and there isn't much to do stuck inside all day long. The times when she's allowed in the garden is when she's as much of herself as she can, running amuck, shouting nonsense, and even scraping her knobby knees.

"I'm sorry, Mabel." The smile falls from her lips and I find myself cursing to myself. I can never stay angry at her when she looks so sad, it tears me apart. She can get away with almost anything around here due solely to that adorable face.

"It's alright, Vi. You just need to learn to be more courteous." I explain, watching as Charlotte exits the confines of my closet.

"Ah, Princess Violet, I thought I heard you." Charlotte looks a bit frazzled as she joins us but hides it behind a bright smile.

Violet is completely oblivious and lights up at Charlotte's entrance, the two exchanging pleasantries before Violet is telling her of the day she's had. The two make small talk for a bit as I scan the room for anything that looks out of place. Aside from my chair before the vanity being pulled out and my shoes in the centre of the floor, everything is in order, exactly how I like it.

"Violet, is there something you need, or did you just want to visit?" My voice breaks through the barrier of silence I've been stuck in, gaining the attention of the two girls in my room. Violet blinks a few times and thinks to herself before gasping.

"Oh yes, mother sent me to collect you for dinner." Glancing down at my wristwatch, I take in the time and nod my head. My mother is a very punctual woman and when she says we eat dinner at seven, we eat dinner at seven.

"Then we shouldn't keep everyone waiting, should we?"

With a nod towards Charlotte, Violet and I exit my quarters and make our way towards the grand dining hall. My breathing remains steady even though on the inside I'm beginning to panic. I've waited for tonight for so long and I can't mess this up.

T-minus two and a half hours until my great escape.

♕♕♕


	2. ♕ II ♕

♕♕♕

Dinner can last anywhere from thirty minutes to an hour with our family and tonight it seemed as though the night would never end.

My father felt the need to share every detail of his day spent running around London addressing matters on behalf of the family and his various meetings with British political powerhouses. My mother, on the other hand, raved about her day spent with The Duchess of Cornwall drinking tea and gossiping about subjects I could care less about. My sister, Gwen, once she finally joined us for dinner, briefly told us of her busy day spent with good friend Victoria Beckham, in which the two women have plans for a joint fashion line coming out in the Fall. Violet told us about her studies and the new book she's reading, which my parents took great interest in, probably only because it couldn't fully amount to their days spent with such important people. And then all eyes turned towards me.

Aside from a brief meeting in the morning about foreign affairs and lunch with someone I can hardly even remember, I had done nothing but plan my escape. Instead of sharing all the gory details on how I plan to escape our palace and spend the night in the city without a supervisor, I decided to stick with telling them of how riveting the new puzzle I'm working on is and about the new show I started watching on Netflix. My story received a few comments from my parents on why I'm still unmarried, how I need to get out more, and how I should be more serious in my future. In my defence: most men of similar status are knobs, it's hard to enjoy yourself on a day out with four personal guards watching your every move, and I am very serious about my future.

By the time I made it back to my quarters, it was already after eight. I spent some time watching more of the Netflix drama centred around close family friends of ours, gaining insight on what it was like for Queen Elizabeth II during the twentieth century. Not many get an accurate glimpse into the life of a royal, but The Crown seems to be pretty spot on.

Many, many years ago the "famous" Royal Family that you hear about whenever you speak of a monarchy took their rightful place as head of the royals in the United Kingdom. Our family, which has been around for just as long, took a step back to the other royal family. Actually, I do believe that far down the line we're somewhat related, but that's a question for an ancestry professional and not myself. We oversee the same countries, yet have less power. After years of there being a significant rivalry between the two families a quote-unquote truce was drawn between us and we've been chummy ever since. In all honesty, I don't really mind the fact that we have less power, it's less pressure placed among my shoulders when it comes time for me to take the throne.

Among the many similarities we share, privacy and seclusion are one. I'm taking a note straight from Princess Margaret's figurative book and gaining freedom from myself. The only difference between her and I is that she was allowed outside the palace with guards as I am practically sneaking out on my own. Times have changed and I'm not sure I choose the wise choice of departure, but what do the kids say... YOLO?

When the clock strikes nine pm, I'm already chomping at the bit getting ready for my escape.

The wig fits snuggly over my plaited hair pulled beneath a hair cap and I brush it out to do it as I like. The clothes fit as they should and I can't help but admire what I look like in such casual attire, wishing I could wear something like this every day of my life. When I slide the cap over the wig I can still very well recognize the woman in the mirror, but I must say I am shocked by the slight difference it makes.

Never have I been allowed to dye, or even do, my hair drastically, it was actually very hard for me to convince my parents to get the ombre that I have now as classy and elegance is key in a royal family. Apparently, it's not very presentable for a soon-to-be Queen to have a pixie cut coloured in the most obnoxious colour of pink you've ever seen; not that I'd want that anyway.

Once I slide on a pair of large rimmed glasses with fake lenses, I feel a wide smile appear on my lips. There's not much I can do about my appearance, but I feel like I've pulled out all the stops with this look. If someone within the palace walls catches me they'll likely see right through the disguise, but from an outsider's perspective, I don't think they'll be the wiser on whose presence they're within.

At exactly half-past nine a soft knock is heard at my door, causing my breathing to pick up only slightly. My prayers are answered when I open the door and see the person I hoped for. Throughout the planning process, it's only really been Charlotte and I, but in order to carry out the most important part of the plan, we needed a little help.

"Niall." I breathe out, grabbing his bicep before tugging him harshly into my room before anyone can see him.

Like Charlotte, Niall has been working with me for a very long time, not quite as long as Charlotte but long enough to gain my trust. He's been one of my personal guards for the past six years, and before that he worked for our general security. If anyone knows how to sneak me in and out of the palace, it's Niall.

He's quite young to be working in the palace with such a strong role, but he's good at his job regardless. When I brought my plan to him the first time he nearly lost his mind, scolding me for thinking so recklessly. As time went on and my reasoning behind the escape growing stronger, he eventually caved in little by little. I like to think he gave in because my desperate pleads and cute pouty face, but it was probably just the amount of times I begged him.

"Whoa." He says, looking me up and down briefly.

"How do I look?" I wonder, wanting to get an outside perspective on my appearance. Niall knows me like the back of his hand, so he'll see right through this look.

"Different." He mutters, continuing to eye me closely as if fearful I change appearances before his very eyes. "I can tell it's you, but it is a shock. I don't think a lot of people will recognize you. It's kind of upsetting actually."

"I like the way I look."

"I didn't say you looked bad; I just meant you don't look like yourself." He says, a light tint coming onto his otherwise fair skin.

Once upon a time, when Niall was first assigned to me, I thought he could be the one. I had a crush on him for quite some time, but when it came down to it, I didn't want to compromise his position and I didn't want to lose his friendship. Plus, I think his fiancée would have an issue with him seeing a royal.

"Is it time?"

Though I'm bursting at the seams to finally get out of this place, I am quite nervous. I don't know what it's like to go out on my own and for that I'm terrified. I should know how to be my own person, how to get on and off the tube on my own, even order a drink by myself, but my knowledge is limited of the universe. It's embarrassing and quite frustrating from time to time.

"If you're ready."

"I think."

Before we even leave the confines of my bedroom, we go over the plan again. We'll exit my room and the living quarters before going down to the kitchen, all whilst avoiding the guards that patrol the interior of the palace. Once in the kitchen, we'll follow the other staff closely as they take the exit. The biggest obstacle, besides not getting recognized, is sneaking through the security system.

Every employee who enters and exits the confines of the palace must go through metal detectors, like those at an airport, to ensure that no one is entering or exiting with things they're not supposed to. In order to even get to the metal detectors, you have to have a badge stating that you work here, or if you're a guest, which was a worry until now.

"Here's your badge, Mary Claire." I find myself giggling at the name, picturing the French magazine in my head, as I take the badge from his hand and look at the photograph. Niall was able to photoshop my photo just enough so that Mary and Mabel don't look too familiar. "And your bag," Niall says whilst I continue to examine the badge in my hands. He gives me the bag that I had previously packed and I loop the strap on my shoulder before pinning the badge to my top.

"I'm ready."

I spend the entire walk down to the kitchen beyond paranoid that we'd get caught. The halls were pretty barren, but that could change at any moment. What if we were to run into one of Niall's pals? What if we ran into one of my other personal guards? What if someone recognizes me? What if...? What if...? What if...?

"You good?"

"Yeah," I mutter back to the man standing at my left.

As we approach the back of the kitchen I keep my head bowed down in case anyone were to get too close of a look. I can hear the loud chatter of the kitchen staff and staff readying to leave around me. Most of the phrases I catch are random and meaningless, but I do catch a phrase which perks my ears up.

"What happened to my glass pie dish?" My head turns only slightly to see our head chef, Jack, looking around his station of dishes, pots, and pans. Jack and I obviously don't talk much, but he's got a true talent at what he does. Whether it's a nice roast or some fruity pastries, they're always made beautifully. His cooking is the only thing I've known for the majority of my life and for that I'm thankful. He's a true god-send.

"The princess ran in here earlier and knocked it over." I find myself laughing to myself at the thought of Violet running around and breaking things because I know it wasn't Gwen and it definitely wasn't me. I feel bad that it was Jack's prized dish, but Violet's going to do what she's going to do, and running amuck is exactly what she does.

"Ah Violet, what am I going to do with her?" Is the last thing I hear before Niall and I leave the kitchen and make it to the back entrance.

My eyes widen at the sight of the enhanced security lining the back doors. I can literally see the outside world and people exiting and entering through the doors, but it seems so far away. I can smell the freedom from here, but there are still so many obstacles to go. Niall steps a bit closer to me, leaning over to whisper in my ear.

"Just keep your head mostly downward, until you show the guards your badge. Follow me." Niall instructs before patting my back lightly and walking ahead of me.

"Dave, what's up, mate?" Niall practically shouts at the man standing before the metal detectors. He's checking badges with one quick glance, mainly making the short line move swiftly as he waves everyone by.

"Hey, mate. Not much."

"How's the night shift?"

"Not as bad as you'd think," Dave answers with a laugh. "How's protecting Princess Spinster?" What did he just call me?

It's not very customary for a princess of my age to be single and aside from the jokes from my sisters and parents I'm not really bothered with the matter. It's not fun going online to see your face plastered on tabloids reading that you'll be forever alone, but what are you going to do? His jab towards my relationship status doesn't really bother me too much and I'm grateful for my thick spine.

"Mate, don't call her that. Her father will have your head if he ever heard you mock his daughter." Dave's smile is quickly erased from his face as the two-part ways. The poor lad barely casts me a second look, probably far too embarrassed for being scolded, as I follow closely behind Niall and place my belongings on the conveyor belt for security screening.

With my head still cast downward, I watch Niall pass through the security detectors, receiving a green light that he's clear. When the guard on the other side of the detector motions me to walk through I swallow the lump in my throat and stand up a little straighter. Quickly I pass through the detector, holding my breath. It's then that I think we've been caught and I wait for the man to grab me and send my father for my head, but nothing like that happens. The guard gives me a bored nod and points towards my bag.

I've done it. I've finally made my escape.

♕♕♕


	3. ♕ III ♕

♕♕♕

_My Lord, that actually worked._

I can't fathom that our plan is actually working, not even when we've passed through the doors to the outside world receiving zero-second glances from the security behind us. Niall joins me at my side, placing his hand on the small of my back as he leads me towards the gates as I smile so wide my cheeks burn. We follow the rest of the staff exiting the gates and slide through to the high street without issue, my smile only growing as our distance did. I can feel my heart beating practically out of my chest with every step we take. I feel as if I may explode.

"I can't believe -"

"I know."

Niall's hand continues to rests on my back as we walk along the pavement towards, what I'm guessing is, the nearest train station. We walk for quite some time, in silence, before we reach a sign reading Weybridge Station, I sigh contently, my excitement growing. Never have I taken the train, or the tube, so I'm both excited and nervous at the same time, pretty much the same emotions I've been up until this point.

"You're not going to leave me, are you?"

I know I said I wanted to go on this adventure alone, but now that I'm here and out in the world, I'm a bit scared to be left on my own. I suppose having Niall by my side, for the time being, wouldn't be so bad; at least I'm not surrounded by upwards of five men trying to block out everything and everyone around me. Hopefully, he won't leave me at least until we're in London, if not I may end up in Scotland by accident. Navigation is not my strong suit.

"I won't leave your side until you specifically instruct me to do so, your highness."

"You probably shouldn't call me that outside the palace walls."

"You are probably correct."

Niall and I enter the station without another word to each other, but once we reach the lobby of the station with signs directing us towards different platforms he begins to speak again.

"Here's your ticket." He slides a piece of paper into my hands and continues to look around as if searching for possible threats towards my safety. "I took the liberty of purchasing a round trip ticket for us both. Our train to return to Weybridge is tomorrow at eight am. You must meet me at the station by seven-forty-five to ensure we make the train on time. We can't miss it. We're already pushing the boundaries of how long we can have you out of the palace for and if they haven't noticed your absence by then, they surely will if you miss breakfast."

My mother likes us to eat breakfast with her around eight-forty-five in the morning. Usually, it's just Violet and me, as Gwen is either out of the palace by then or still in bed and my father is already working. If Niall and I play our cards right and the train isn't late, we should make it to the palace just in time for me to make my appearance at breakfast. If I don't I know my mother will send someone to come after me.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm not entirely sure." I honestly admit. "Whilst I feel truly happy to be free for the first time, I still have an overwhelming and ever-present feeling of anxiety. I suppose I figured I'd feel this way." Niall stops me short in the lobby of the station, pulling me to the edge of the corridor and away from listening ears.

"We can always turn back; you don't have to do this, Mabel." I shake my head, taking a deep breath and examining the ticket in my hand. The departure time is approaching quickly and if we delay any longer we'll miss our train. "I won't judge you for wanting to go home. You're my friend Mabel, and what you say go."

"When have I ever been the one to give up?"

Forty minutes and an extremely thrilling train ride later, the train pulls into Waterloo Station. If it weren't for Niall's overbearing presence I would have run off the train as soon as it slowed to a crawl. My anxiety, whilst still present, had taken a back seat to the excitement that was bubbling up in my gut. So as soon as we pulled in to a complete stop, I dragged Niall off the train in a flash.

As we make it to the centre of the station, I'm a smiling idiot, twirling around to gaze at every inch of the hustle and bustle. I look like a child in a candy shoppe for the first time, so many things going on and too many choices to choose from. The station isn't too busy at this time of night, but all the people are simply too fascinating not to watch as they make their way to their trains.

"Where to first, Mabel?"

"Piccadilly Circus," I respond, thinking of the first touristy section of the city I possible can.

I know as a native Brit and Londerner, sort of, the unspoken rule of the city is to avoid the tourist parts of the city as much as possible, but I've never been to those places. I want to experience them first hand because in a way I am a tourist... a tourist of my own city.

Little is spoken between Niall and me as we travel through the station to reach the place where we will catch the tube. He hands me an Oyster Card before we get to the turnstile, instructing me how to use it, and we breeze through without a problem. When we get closer to the line Niall's hoping to find the crowd seems to grow in numbers, indicating that our specific train is pretty popular and quite possibly nearing. I stick closely with Niall, hoping not to lose him in the crowd as we zig-zag through foreigners and the late-night party crowd.

Over the bellows of the growing crowd, Niall instructs me of the line and route we're going to take, which is very much like him. As my personal guard, he's always informing me of our plans and routes when we're not in the palace to ensure that we have an understanding.

"There's the train!" I call excitedly seeing the tube pull up to a stop in the distance. Through my excitement I begin to jog towards the tube, not wanting to miss it, my actions very much like Violet in a way. No longer am I a twenty-six-year-old woman, but a twelve-year-old girl with a need to explore the unknown.

"Mabel, wait for me!" I can hear Niall's shouting towards me, but I ignore it with a wave of my hand, indicating that I had indeed heard him. He's quick, he'll be able to keep up. As I approach the train, I slow to a fast-paced walk before I hop onto the awaiting car. With an excited little squeal, I spin around to look for Niall. Expecting him right by my side, but I'm a little shocked to see him so far away.

A large group had exited the same car, holding up those coming from our direction. Through my excited daze, I had passed them without trouble, but Niall had been caught up. I giggle at the worried look he gives me as he tries his best to politely push through the crowd. His uneasiness of my distance is a tad funny but only until the doors begin to close between us.

"Niall!" I shout, my voice sounding a bit panicked in the moment. My actions to hop off the train are cut off by the doors sealing shut, separating Niall and I. Niall is on the other side of the door in seconds, banging on the window pane with closed fists as if that would do anything.

_Mabel, you idiot! Why on earth would you be so daft? You're not a bloody child, you can't just run about!_

As the train hisses to a start and begins to move, Niall lightly jogs to stay in pace with the train, yelling at me from the other side.

"Get off at Piccadilly Circus and wait for me! You'll be fine." I nod my head nervously and watch as Niall stops running, remaining stagnant on the platform. His chest heaves and falls heavily with each deep breath he takes, my own breaths almost matching his with how scared I've become in an instant.

"What have I done?" I mumble to myself as Niall disappears out of sight.

I've never, ever been on my own in public before. Whenever I leave the palace I have anywhere between three and ten people with me and we only ever take a car of our own. We don't take public transportation, we don't walk around, we stay in places that are safe, secure, and familiar. Here on my own, I'm in a place that's neither secure nor familiar, who knows if it's even safe, and I'm freaking out.

My hands fumble to take my mobile phone out of my bag, unlock the device with shaking hands, the fingerprint recognition not working in my moment of freak out, and finally click on Niall's contact. A frustrated breath leaves my lips as I see that I have absolutely no service in this dreaded underground transportation thing.

"Excuse me?" A voice, followed by a hand to my shoulder sends me jumping backwards against the doors of the tube with a shout escaping my lips. My arms raise upwards as if I can fight off the stranger, but we all know that isn't likely with my lack of muscle. When you grow up in the family that I do, self-defence courses are mandatory and we take a refresher course every year, but all that's gone out the window in my moment of shock.

I'm met staring directly at the concerned face of a man, his hands now raised as if he's surrendering. He's quite attractive at first glance, with his dark curls cut short and emerald-like eyes full of concern, but I push those thoughts back. I'm not one of those girls who fall in love with someone at first glance, especially with this person that could very well attack or rob me.

"Sorry! I'm sorry!" He apologizes immediately, matching my startled demeanour.

"What do you want?" I demand, lowering my own arms to fix the bag on my shoulder and the hat on my head. Subconsciously I hold my bag closer to my body, fearing this attractive gentleman is after one thing and one thing only, the contents of my bag... or what's between my legs, but we won't think about that.

"I just wanted to make sure that you're alright. I saw what happened." I release a breath that I didn't know I was holding when I hear the sincerity in his voice.

There are a few other patrons on the train and it eases me only slightly. Surely he's not the type to rob someone in front of so many witnesses.

"I'm fine," I answer, straightening myself out and trying to get a grip over my emotions. I need to calm down. I can't go about this adventure if I'm freaking myself, and others, out.

Just as I think my awkward encounter with this stranger is over, the train takes an unexpected turn at a much faster speed than I think necessary, sending my flying towards the stranger. I scream of shock leaves my lips as I fall in his direction. His actions are quick, grabbing ahold of me before reaching out to steady himself with the metal pole to his side.

_How cliché._

"Unhand me," I order once the actions of the train have smoothed out. The man who has been nothing but kind to me quickly removes his hands once he sees I'm comfortable standing on my own two feet. Once again his hands are raised in surrender and I'm left feeling guilty.

"I'm sorry." Cursing to myself, I shake my head at how rude I'm being. I'm usually not like this, ordering people around, but I suppose that's what happens when you're alone, scared, and your guard is up.

"No, I'm sorry. That was rude of me. Thank you for your assistance." I mutter, ashamed of my previous actions.

The man only nods and watches as I shuffle over towards the bench, dropping onto my bum. I try not to think of the last time this train was cleaned as I relax onto the plastic, taking a much needed deep breath. The initial shock of the situation is wearing down and I'm starting to feel foolish for how I acted before and, surprisingly, a little surge of confidence floods through me.

_I can do this on my own. I am an independent adult woman who doesn't need a man. If I can navigate foreign policy and international relations then I can navigate myself to the correct place and wait for Niall. Maybe I won't need Niall anymore once I've made it off this train, maybe I'll be better off on my own. Perhaps this unexpected separation is just what I needed to know that I can do this. Perhaps._

"Are you from around here?" My eyes shift towards the man taking a seat beside me, for too close for my liking, even with him leaving enough space for one person between us. I'm shocked that he's still speaking to me, even after everything I've said and done to him. How much patience does this man have?

"Not exactly." I confidently state, sitting up straighter and gazing around the train.

"So, where are you from?" I can't tell if he's just being friendly with me or if he's just trying to get on my nerves. From the look on his face, I'd say he's just being friendly, but I can't help but be wary of him. Whilst I want to see the good in all people, I know there are bad people out there and I would be the best target for them.

"Weybridge." His eyes widen slightly.

Weybridge is quite an expensive place to live, the palace or not. The real estate is high above the national average, or so I've heard. And the fact that our palace resides within the town drives up the prices of the homes and the want to live there. Our "neighbours" are wealthy socialites with tiny dogs and wardrobes bigger than bedrooms. And if that's not saying the status of Weybridge is high-class, then the fact that John Lennon and Ringo Starr used to live in separate mansions in Weybridge, once upon a time, should.

"Wow." I hum in response, not really wanting to talk about where I spend all my days and nights. The reason for this escape is to not have to think about my home and where I come from.

"Where do you live?"

"Bethnal Green." I nod my head as if I know what he's talking about, but in reality that could be in London or France for all I know. "It's nothing like Weybridge, but it is home." I find myself smiling at his confession.

The palace is where I was born and raised, but sometimes it feels the furthest from home. I don't even know what home is supposed to feel like. All I know is what I've been raised to believe. To my family, a home is something magnificent and filled to the brim with people and expensive things. Don't get me wrong, my family isn't snobbish when it comes to money, but I don't think they know how to live without it.

"I'm Harry." My head lifts to look him in the eye, my smile remaining on my lips when I see his own smile.

"Mab-" _Shoot._ "Mary." His head falling back as his mouth lets a loud laugh escape through his lips. There's this undeniable bubbling in my stomach and I don't know what to write off the reason for it as. Whatever it is, it feels nice.

"Nice to meet you _Mab-_ Mary."

♕♕♕


	4. ♕ IV ♕

♕♕♕

Little was said between Harry and me after our exchange of names, but then again only a few minutes had passed and I wasn't feeling _too_ talkative. I didn't exactly know what to say next. I mean what do you say to someone when you feel slightly guilty for yelling at them and then you're also hiding a large secret from them? All I know is that I don't want our names to be the last thing we say to each other, so I have to come up with something and quick.

I had just met this man, but already it felt different; different in a way that I had never felt like this with another person of the opposite sex.

There had been bachelors I met with during balls, dinners, and events, in the past but never did they stick around after our initial meeting, nor did I have the desire for them to stay. I have absolutely no interest in a man that's only pursuing me for my money, status, or looks. I want a real connection with someone, not just a relationship that looks good on the surface. I want someone who can make me laugh until my sides hurt, cry until I have no tears left, and smile until I can't feel my face. I want to experience the ups and downs with someone who will stick through it all. I want a happily ever after. After all, what's a fairytale without a princess?

My parents have respected my opinion of marriage and relationships, thus not forcing me to mingle with _too_ many eligible bachelors, of royal status or not. There is a significant pressure for me to marry, but not as much as there would be if I was required to be married to ascend to the throne. Although I do hope to be married by the time I rule; no one wants to be alone forever.

But I shouldn't be thinking too far ahead when I've only just met the man sitting at my side. I tend to do this: set my mind on something and then let the idea spiral out of control until I'm sneaking out of palaces and past guards.

"What station are you meeting your boyfriend at?"

"Piccadil- _boyfriend_?" Harry nods, an unreadable look on his face.

"Yeah, the blonde banging about on the windows earlier." A loud laugh erupts from deep within my gut as I think about Niall and I being together. Whilst there was that moment in the past where I had wished it were to come true, that's surely not the case now. We're nothing more than platonic friends and that's the way it shall stay.

"He's not my boyfriend." I can't help but detect a hint of relief in Harry's face as I admit that Niall and I are nothing but general acquaintances, but it's barely there. "We're just friends. He's actually supposed to be showing me around as I've never been to the city before." I've actually been to London quite a few times, but he doesn't need to know the boring details of those outings.

"Really? I couldn't tell." He jests, making me laugh again.

_Should I be finding everything he says funny?_

"I don't get out much, unfortunately; trying to change that."

"Well, welcome to London." His arms raise to motion around the train car. I look around the baren car, nodding my head and mimicking an impressed look as I take in the plastic seats, poster covered walls, and concrete surroundings whooshing by at a fast pace.

If I'm being honest, I was picturing the tube to be dirtier than it is. It's definitely not clean, that's for sure, but it's not covered in filth and odd people as I had thought it would be. Gwen's been on the tube before, but only once, and she described it as a truly horrific experience. She still has nightmares about it, but that's just Gwen being dramatic.

"It's nice."

"If you think this is nice, wait until you're above ground." His smile is contagious and I find myself matching my grin with his. I notice the two small dimples that poke out on his slightly stubbled cheeks and they make my smile even brighter. There's nothing better than a man with dimples. "Where're we going?" Harry asks, looking across the tube to the map of the various lines and stations.

I hum for a second, catching the fact that he said _we_ rather than _you_. I can't say I'm disappointed he's willing to escort me to my intended location, shocked is more the word I'm looking for. I open my mouth to tell him where I want to go but stop mid-answer, again.

Am I completely incapable of handling myself that I need a babysitter to hold my hand the entire time I'm out of the palace?

I can either get off at Piccadilly Circus with Harry, join Niall, and get scolded for running off, or I can live out the great adventure that I had initially intended to find myself and explore the city. I want to do things I've never before done, and joining a stranger for a late-night adventure is definitely something I've never done before.

"How about you choose? That is if you don't have any other previous engagements." I make the bold decision to ditch Niall and stick with the practical stranger. What's the worst that could happen?

"What about your friend?"

I pull my phone from my lap and open Niall's contact, texting him that I want him to go home and to not worry about me. I know that he can track my phone so if something does go wrong it's not like he can't find me. He thinks I don't know about it, but I do and have for a long time.

"He can fend for himself for a while."

"Alright."

There's a smirk that lines his pink lips and he quickly stands to his feet, reaching towards me with an outstretched hand. I'm hesitant to take it at first, almost second-guessing my decision to go with this man. But with a deep breath of reassurance, I place my hand in his and stand. Before I can even settle on my feet, Harry pulls me towards the doors of the tube, which open only seconds later. And with a gentle tug, we're off.

We snake through the Piccadilly Circus station, Harry leading us quickly through the maze of the station as if he's got the place memorized. We take a few sharp turns before ending up at a new platform with a few people waiting by. Rather than taking notice of the sights around me, my eyes are glued to my hand, which is still clutched in Harry's.

Call me a giddy school girl, but it's been ages since anyone has held my hand so I can't help the ecstatic thoughts racing through my mind and my heart beating wildly as if it will pop out of my chest cavity. It's as if I'm up on a cloud and nothing can bring me down... aside from the intercom reminding us to _mind the gap._

"Ready?"

"I suppose so," I tell him. "You're not going to drag me off and kill me, are you?" My tone comes off joking, but there is a part of me that is aware tonight could end up in my kidnapping and ultimately my untimely death. Rather than dwell on the negative outcomes of tonight, I try and focus my energy on the positivity, which is easier said than done.

"Now why would I ever reveal my master plan to you, Miss Mary?"

"You have heard the expression _sharing is caring_ , right? I was merely hoping that you'd abide by said expression." Harry smirks down at me, his eyes briefly casting down towards me before shooting upwards to meet the incoming tube.

"Have you ever heard of the exclamation _surprise_ or the expression _knocking your socks off_?" He wonders aloud. I merely nod as he tugs on my hand and draws me towards the tube. "Well, Mary, that is what I intend on doing, surprising you and consequently knocking your socks off. Do you have any objections to that?"

I think for a moment, putting on my best thinking look, before shaking my head and laughing. Harry tugs me towards one of the vacant benches on the tube and we both sit. Harry and I sit in comfortable silence for a bit before he extends a comment my way. A comment that rattles me to my core and I'm fumbling to find a proper answer.

"Tell me more about yourself." Such a simple question and a person in their right mind should be able to answer _something_ relatively quick, but for me I was a fish out of water.

"Well, I, um, actually, I'm, oh..." My mouth opens and closes trying to find something to say, but no proper words find their escape. What am I to say? Called me prepared, but I had planned a brief backstory on my identity prior to leaving the palace in the event that something like Harry's question was thrown my way. I thought I was prepared, but now that I'm being presented with the opportunity to share I'm shy and at a loss for words.

"You alright there?" He seems very amused by my inability to answer, completely not understanding that I'm racking my brain for a semi-normal answer. I laugh my first attempt at a lie off and fake a few coughs, like a proper idiot.

"Yeah, sorry, just had a tickle in my throat." I blame my stuttering on the so-called tickle before straightening myself out and turning towards Harry to share.

All should go smoothly as long as I keep the background short, sweet, and easy to remember.

"Well, I'm from Weybridge, which I suppose you already know. I live with," _don't say with your parents, don't you dare,_ "my sister. Yeah, I have a sister, her name is..." I can't very well say her name is Gwen, because if his IQ is average or higher than he can start to put the dots together after a while. My brain reels for a name that's not too close to Gwen's as my eyes dart around the tube for any inspiration, "Talia." I settle on, my eyes finding an advert with the caption _meet Talia_ at the bottom of the poster. I just pray Harry doesn't turn around and read the same advert I am. "Yes, she and I are very close."

"And what do you do?" _What do I do? I lie and I handle foreign affairs._

"I actually work at a law firm."

 _Really? Do you work at a law firm,_ Mary _? You don't know the first thing about law._ _You couldn't have said you work in international business or international affairs?_

"You're a solicitor?" I find myself subconsciously nodding even though I'm deeply cringing on the inside. Why couldn't I have chosen a career that I actually know a thing or two about? Or shook my head and alluded to the fact that I was a measly receptionist or assistant. "That's very cool. What kind of law do you practice? My father is actually a barrister, small world." _Of course, he is._

"This is a small world. Well as a solicitor I legally advise clients on a range of things, whether they're just a single person or a big organization, but I don't practice in court, that would be something for your father to handle." _Please don't ask me anything other than that, because honestly, I don't know anything else._ _Change the bloody subject..._ "But enough boring law talks, what do you do?"

"I work in finance, nothing any more glamorous. I do financial planning for individuals at a firm in Central London. It's a small company that I work for, but I enjoy it. I'm not too keen on being surrounded by too many people. Crowds are actually kind of off-putting for me."

"I can relate to that; crowds are not my forte."

You'd think with my demeanour as seen in the media that I'm a very outgoing, charismatic, extrovert of a person, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Growing up around a lot of people has put me in the permanent mindset of wanting to be utterly on my own; I'm an introvert, through and through. I'd rather sit on my own with a cuppa and do a puzzle or watch some Netflix than mingle with a room full of know-it-all men and women.

"Any hobbies?"

"Don't laugh." I start, gaining a weary expression from the man at my right. The expression is quickly erased though, a smile replacing the look almost immediately after he had jokingly cast it.

"I won't, I promise."

"Puzzles."

"Puzzles?"

"Yeah, puzzles."

"And why is that?"

"I don't know really. I suppose there's just something so calming about sitting in a quiet room, fitting individual pieces together to create a bigger image. It's like life, in a way. You and I make up the smaller pieces and when all of humanity comes together, we create one big image." I confess, feeling my cheeks burn a crimson heat as the words just topple out of my mouth. Not many adults go around bragging that they're into puzzles and I don't want Harry to think I'm a big nerd. "That may not make any sense, sorry." Harry shakes his head.

"No, that actually makes perfect sense. And I wouldn't laugh at you for having a hobby that you are passionate about. When I'm not out working or with friends I'm usually at home, on my own, reading a book. It's relaxing. As for puzzles, in addition to all the symbology that you just spat, they're good for your brain, lowering stress, and they're fun."

How in world did I stumble upon this fine specimen of a man? Not only is he incredibly attractive, but he's smart, he's kind, he's pretty funny, and he's an introvert; he basically me in the male form. What are the odds that he and I would find each other?

"You think puzzles are fun?"

"Yes; and I'm not just saying that to impress you. I have quite the puzzle collection at home too."

There's a part of me, deep within, that, upon hearing that confession, wants to leap on him and start snogging the man. I want to jump him, here and now, confession my deepest attraction towards this man, and then order him to take me to his place... so we can do puzzles until the sun rises.

There's also the very logical side of me that knows that everything I've just fantasized about is utter nonsense. I would never, ever, act on any random impulse to snog a stranger and then take him home, no matter how much I would like to. So instead of crawling onto his lap and moulding my lips to his, I bite my lip and push the thoughts to the back of my mind... deep in my mind.

"Perhaps if you don't kill me tonight we can check your puzzle collection out." I boldly say, hoping that the innuendo of going to his place isn't taken the wrong way. Harry smirks over at me before shrugging and leaning back in his seat. His dark pink lips purse together and eyes squint, looking deep in thought all whilst staring at me.

"We'll see."

"I can beg if you want. I'm actually pretty persuasive."

There's a look that falls across his features, but it's gone before I can really explore it. If I was more experienced on the matter of men, maybe I'd detect it as lust. Instead, the look could pass for anything: shock, disgust, maybe even gas.

"I'm sure you are."

♕♕♕


End file.
